


Where Better To Be?

by Whatevergirl



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorian's Not Well, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3206168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatevergirl/pseuds/Whatevergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Dragon Age Kink Meme, Round 2, Page 20: 'I just want a sick Dorian who is fed up of all the cold and snow and rain etc being looked after and made to feel better.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Better To Be?

Dorian was soaked to the skin, his body shivering as another wave crashed into the rocks below them, sending spray up into the air and down over their heads… again.

He hated the south. There were startlingly few places with weather he found acceptable and honestly, he had not even thought about the weather when he had up and left Tevinter to follow Alexius and Felix down here. It had been foolish of him to not consider the weather would be cooler, even in Redcliffe, the air had been a touch on the cold side; out here by the storm coast, it was simply cold. Of course, having his clothes stick to his skin with salty sea water did not help matters, not when there was a wind blowing.

Behind him, Bull and Sera were arguing over whether or not the warrior could throw the elf over the heads of their next attackers to hit them from two sides. She didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic, and Dorian supposed Bull’s references to her being an elf was the problem. She was the oddest elf he had ever come across… 

Although, he mused as he watched the Inquisitor jumping and scrambling to get up another rock face, he seemed to be allied with a number of strange fellows these days. 

Another wave crashed into the rocks, just as the sky was lit by a bright light… a few moments later, a roar could be heard.

“Dragon territory? Oh, this is gonna be good!” hooted Bull, a grin spreading across his face.

“Not yet.” Lavellan said quietly, her eyes drawn to the dragon and the giant as they battled on a nearby stretch of coast.

“Oh, come on Boss!” the Qunari whined. “It’ll be good.”

“No. We need to make a camp somewhere.” Her violet eyes flickered briefly in Dorian’s direction. “And we need more supplies anyway.”

“Please?”

“Make a note of the location. We can come back sometime.” Again, Dorian was sure her eyes flickered in his direction. He wondered if she had noticed his shivering; he had forcibly stopped his teeth from chattering though.

“We heading back to camp then?” Sera crossed her arms over her chest as she shifted from one foot to the other.

“I…. Do you think we should go on and find another campsite or just head back?” The Inquisitor asked.

“We should continue on to find another spot. Scout Harding has a potential site marked not too far from here.” Bull replied. Sera simply shrugged her shoulders, not overly interested in decision making. 

“Wh-whichever.” Stuttered Dorian. The thought of heading back to the previous camp was feeling ever more daunting, it was a good hour at least. However, while the next site wasn’t far, they would have to wait while even after arriving while the soldiers trudged over here with all the gear.

“We’ll go on. We can send a signal flare up when we get there and then rest up for a bit.”

Of course, half an hour in they had stopped to fight a bit more and stare through more trees… an hour later they had found another astrarium and Lavellan was now squinting at the map as she tried to figure out where they were going. 

Dorian was, in contrast to earlier on, far too hot. As Bull and Lavellan debated which way to go, and which hills were which on the map, he sat heavily on the ground, tugging at his cloak.

“You ok?” Sera bobbed down beside him.

“I am, as ever, wonderful.” He said, and rolled his eyes. Naturally, that made him nauseous and he pressed a hand to his head.

“Don’t give me that crap. You’re sick, right?”

“I suspect I may be.” His voice soft. There was no avoiding Sera, but he didn’t want everyone to know.

“I’m not really sure what to do for that.” She gave him a strange look, and it took him far too long to realise that she cared, that her look was one of concern.

He was shaking again, his body exhausted and he decided flopping backwards onto the muddy ground wasn’t a terrible idea.

“Oh, shit.” He heard Sera swear softly, but opening his eyes felt like too much effort. “Guys?”

He never heard their response, instead rolling onto his side and curling up. If he could just find a comfortable position, they could bicker about where there were till the world’s end. He shifted, his shoulder back into a better spot and blearily thought now was not the time to doze off.

\------

When he opened his eyes again, there were sounds of life around him… not life as in the trees and stuff the Inquisitor loved, but people. He looked slowly around, noting the people pottering about and the pot of stew sat over the fire.

He wondered where Bull, Lavellan and Sera were.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

“Apparently.” He croaked at her, struggling to sit up.

“The Inquisitor and her companions headed north. You are to rest up.” The soldier then turned her back to him and went to chat to someone else.

“Wonderful. Off to see the dragon again, I’ll bet.” 

He struggled up into a sitting position, his head still spinning and his limbs aching. He tried not to be bothered by the soldier’s lack of interest in him. She had delivered her message, why should she care if the Tevinter mage was any better.

Very few of Cullen’s soldiers liked him… most simply disliked him, but there were a few who outright hated him… Not him, Dorian reminded himself, they didn’t know him. Just what he represented to them.

Still, he had friends. He shouldn’t complain, it didn’t do to grumble. Sera liked him, she had outright told him so the other day, even if it was in a roundabout way of telling him to shut up. Cole, the strange young man, liked him too… even if Dorian found him a little unnerving, his never-ending flow of questions… though, he had given Dorian the first gift he had received since arriving here a little wooden duck, and then he had apologised for not finding one with wheels attached; the boy could be sweet when he wanted to be, like a child desperately trying to find ways to make everything better.

Then there was the Iron Bull.

Of all the people he had encountered since staggering through the gates at Haven, the Qunari would have been the last he would have expected to become friends with, but the large man was happy to laugh and joke with him; he mocked Dorian’s home country, it was true, but at least he didn’t assume Dorian was an evil blood-mage. 

It made Dorian feel bad for all the times he had simply assumed Qunari were savage beasts. Of course, he was busy crossing out a number of assumptions these days. Being in the South had re-written his view of the place drastically. 

“Magnificent!” Dorian could hear Bull’s voice as he crowed enthusiastically on his way back to camp. “It’s a beautiful thing, Boss.”

He couldn’t hear Lavellan’s reply though, and squinted around in the dimming light to see where they were.

“You’re up, are you?” Sera wrinkled her nose at him for a moment, before heading over to see what was in the pot over the fire.

“Feeling better, little Vint?” asked Iron Bull as he dropped to the ground beside Dorian.

“Marvellous.” He replied, ignoring the warmth that spread through him as his friends came back. _Friends_ … what a novel concept. He rather loved it.

“Yeah, I can tell from the way you shiver.” Bull gave an exaggerated eye roll, but dropped the matter.

Dorian sniffed in what he hoped was a dismissive manner, though he suspected it just sounded like he was trying to stop his nose from running… which was, unfortunately, the case.

“Dorian, eat something people you go back to sleep.” Bull’s voice was gentle in his ear, and the mage forced his eyes open again to see the man holding two bowls.

“Hmm.” He sighed and accepted the offered food. It was bland, like most Southern food, but he didn’t care. He was skilled in forcing this stew down, as the dish seemed to be all that Cullen’s soldiers knew how to cook. 

Half way through, he rested the bowl in his lap and let his head drop onto Bull’s well-muscled arm. He wondered if he should be glad his nose was too stuffy to breathe through properly, if Qunari warriors smelt as disgusting as humans did when they sweated; he considered asking Bull about it, but found the effort of moving to be too much. 

He was still sort of awake when someone took the bowl away from him; not enough to open his eyes, or to acknowledge them in anyway, but he felt himself being pushed back onto his makeshift bed, a blanket pulled over his now chilly body and a large palm pressed to his head.

“Sleep well.” Bull’s words went with him as he drifted off.

\------

“You’re not gonna die or anything, are you?” Sera was staring curiously over at him from her horse as the headed back through the coastlands.

“No.”

“Cos, that’d be pretty inconvenient.”

“I’m not that sick.”

“You might fall off your horse.” Was that a hopeful tone in her voice? Maker forbid her journey back to Skyhold be boring… he could hear Bull chuckling behind them.

“I’ve been riding horses for as long as I can remember, I’m not going to fall off.”

“Right.” Sera’s face twitched, he sort of wanted to applaud her though. He knew he shouldn’t remind her he had come from a well-off family, but there were times when he forgot. If she just twitched then she was getting better at hiding her displeasure.

“We’re going to stop in the next village we come to.” The Inquisitor informed them as she trotted past them.

“Great. Even longer to get back.”

“We can go to the tavern, Sera.” Lavellan told her friend.

“I thought you said people didn’t like mages or elves here. Is that wise?” Dorian frowned as he shifted on his horse, his nauseated stomach making protests about the whole journey.

“Oh, yeah!” The blonde elf chuckled in her odd way, and Dorian decided the women could probably fight their way out of any situation. Besides, Bull would likely join them.

As the others bantered happily, the mage’s mind drifted to any actual bed, maybe even with a proper mattress. He wondered how backwater this village would be, and if it would have decent mattresses, or ones stuffed with straw.

“Nearly there.” Bull said, causing Dorian to raise his head up and glance over. 

“Glad to hear it.”

“You can see it, just over there.”

“Good.” He said, though it sounded more like a whimper. He didn’t glance over there though. Instead, he let his eyes fall back to the Inquisitor’s horse.

“Bull, you’re over-thinking it right. I’ve got an idea.” Sera suddenly called out, twisting around in her saddle to look at the Qunari. Beside her, Lavellan reached over to take her horse’s reins without a word.

“Alright, hit me.” 

“You’re not throwing piss, but I could ride on your shoulders? You run and hit, I shoot.” Her voice sounded eager, and Dorian tried to imagine what that would be like.

“Hmm. You standing or sitting?” In an instant, Dorian felt an unexpected stab of jealousy. It lurched through him, mixing with his queasy stomach to finally making him vomit. He pulled his horse to a stop, half fell out the saddle and to the ground with a painful thump and retched.

Conversation continued around him, but he could hear above the buzzing in his ears to see if they were moving away or had stopped.

Gasping, he tried to stop. He hated being sick, his body was back to shaking badly again, and he barely had the strength to hold his body up. 

“Shit.” He swore, coughing as he hunched over on his hands and knees. He needed to clean himself up with something, but only had his cloak… maybe the others would come back.

“Here you go.” Bull’s warm body pressed up beside him, holding the remains of one of the earlier outfits. He may object to the way Lavellan sometimes chose to strip their defeated foes, but the torn cloth was appreciated as he wiped his face and blew his nose. Hopefully, they still had something he could wear instead of his now soiled clothing.

“Th-thank you.” He said, gripping the cloth in his lap as he debated asking Bull for something to change into.

“We’re nearly there. You wanna change now or when we get there?”

“Now.” He replied, he may be sick but he did not want anyone’s first impression of him to be marred by the way he currently looked.

“We don’t have anything small…” Lavellan warned as she dug through the pack. It didn’t surprise Dorian to hear that. He was unsure of what Ferelden teenagers were fed, but they all seemed to come out much taller than the vast majority of the Tevinter population. 

It was bloody cold when he got his top stripped off though. The cold air seemed to seep under his skin and edge towards his bones, and he wrapped his arms tightly around his body; the sweat still on his skin from earlier making the cold even worse.

“Urgh, human sweat.” He heard Bull grumble, but the man belied his words by pulling Dorian into his lap and wrapping two strong, warm arms around him. “Found it yet boss?”

“Umm… I think the man we got this off may have been a giant. Sorry, Dorian. You’re going to have to wear a dress.”

The two focussed on getting him dressed, and Dorian allowed himself to be moved as they liked. He was exhausted, and he still felt like retching again. Best not though, if this was the best alternative to fashionable clothing.

“Dorian? Can you get onto my horse?” the Inquisitor asked after a little while, presumably after packing things away again.

“Yours?” he asked.

“Well, I’m not putting anyone else on Bull’s… Don’t pull that face.” Dorian could hear the grin in her voice, and could only imagine the face the warrior was pulling. “And Sera… I’d rather have you on my horse.”

“You’re lucky I like you!” Sera’s voice rang out, and Dorian felt like grinning himself. 

“Up you get, little Vint.” Bull teased as he helped Dorian onto the horse, and Dorian felt like whimpering as the warmth was left behind. “Need a hand boss?”

“Keep your hands to yourself. I don’t want to be groped like that.” She laughed and got on behind the mage.

They set off again, and the chatting started up, but Dorian focussed on not throwing up. His stomach clenched painfully and he bit his lip in an attempt to keep quiet. 

Once they reached the village, the Inquisitor quickly found a tavern with an inn above it and rented two rooms for the night.

“We’ll head up now.” Bull said, though Dorian was too sleepy to have any input himself. “You two have fun.”

“You betcha!” cackled Sera and Lavellan said something too, but Dorian could feel himself dozing off now they had stopped riding and were standing outside the tavern. 

“Hey, I want the village to still be standing in the morning.” Bull chuckled.

“Oh, you’re no fun, you. Go on then, look after the sick mage.”

And apparently they were gone, for there was no more conversation. Dorian stood, leaning heavily against Bull, waiting for him to lead him to a bed. 

“Come on then.”

\------

In the morning, Dorian’s eyes opened slowly. It was brighter than he had come to expect in the coastlands, and it was warm.

The reason for the warmth was immediately evident as his pillowed was breathing. He moved, peeling himself off Bull’s chest to look blearily around.

“Where are we?” He asked, struggling to sit up.

“At the inn.” Bull answered as he reached a hand up to scratch at his horns.

“Inn?” He had thought the plan was to camp on their way back. Not that he was complaining, his whole body hurting and he felt horrifically groggy.

“Apparently the Inquisitor has a soft spot for you.”

“Of course she does.” He said, though he failed to make the statement as confident as he usually would.

“Go back to sleep. It’s still earlier and the other two only got in a little while ago.”

“From where?” Was there a contact they were meant to be meeting here? Or something to do with those Red Jenny people?

“Drinking. I don’t know how most Dalish are raised, but the Inquisitor is pretty good at holding her alcohol.”

“Urgh.” Dorian groaned eloquently, the thought of alcohol both too much and oddly alluring. “Wait, you were awake until they got back in?”

“I like to know where my people are.”

“Such a mother hen… or mother dragon…” his mind drifted back to the conversation he had overheard between Bull and Cole, where the young man had asked why he hadn’t named himself Iron Dragon.

“Go back to sleep Dorian.”

“Keep people safe, huh?” He mumbled, a stray thought about the state of his moustache drifting by, but gone before it could fully form and Dorian was asleep again, safe in the arms of the oddly attractive, over protective Qunari warrior.


End file.
